


Return To Fairyland

by moonwings



Category: A Journey Through Fairyland
Genre: F/M, I think this is the only story for this movie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-04
Updated: 2020-11-04
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:00:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27376858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moonwings/pseuds/moonwings
Summary: Just because the original ending made me cry as a kid... here's a new one!
Relationships: Florence/Michael





	Return To Fairyland

**Author's Note:**

> I litterally couldn't even find the category for this movie, so I'm assuming basically no one has seen the movie or cared enough to do a fanfiction of it, which.... is fair. It's not a fantastic movie, but I liked it when I was younger and wanted to make a happier ending.
> 
> .... and yes, I fully acknowledge that this is supremely cheesey but is actually pretty in character for them in the movie.

Micheal finished the last note on his symphony, one which had haunted him for many years. Every time he thought it finished, he found something to improve, something not quite right, that didn't match what was in his head and his heart. This needed to be absolutely perfect. It needed to be sublime. It was his legacy.

Achingly, he set down his pen with relief and looked over the pages of notes and finally felt the peace of accomplishment. This was his and Florence's story, written all in music: his adventure, their blossoming love, their brief happiness before their tragic separation, the dark notes of their permanent parting and the heartaching life alone, longing for her, the wistful ending solo of hope and enduring love. This would be their only eternity together.

He penned the title he had decided on: Florence Waltz Sonata. A relatively bland name, but not too descriptive and would keep their names together. Any time people would speak his name, they would remember hers. He tucked it safely into its folder and finally set it aside to be played.

His hands ached with the arthritis in his bones, but he'd needed to finish this, more than anything else. The exhaustion that swept over him was nearly crippling and he struggled against it to rise, taking up his cane and wobbling over to his bed to collapse in it gracelessly.

He was so tired, moreso than he had ever been before in his short life. Climbing under the covers, he reflected that his life, brief as it was proving to be, had not turned out to be bad.

After Florence, he'd put all his passion into music. Flowers and plants were still an absolute staple and he still took care of his flowers, oftentimes rehearsing or composing among them; but his eagerness for music itself had grown. He couldn't wait to play.

Graduating the Academy was easy, he'd been the Valedictorian of their class and been immediately offered first chair in several orchestras. It had seemed an illustrious start to a long career, except that he'd known something was wrong.

Even before his adventure, he had been prone to exhaustion and clumsiness. After his adventure it had not ceased, rather it had increased- he just learned to manage it better. People complimented him on being so accomplished at his age, and how young he looked, but within a few years it had stopped being compliments and transformed into worry. He had not grown an inch in nearly five years and still looked no older than sixteen. His hair starting to turn white had alarmed many people, but it wasn't until he collapsed onstage that he had been dragged in to be examined by doctors of every degree they could get on short notice.

The diagnosis was not good. A full body auto immune disease, attacking nearly every system in his body. Multiple organ damage and his pituitary gland was completely destroyed. Medicines and life changes had helped prolong his life, but the diagnosis was accurate - he had less than 10 years.

He'd performed for as long as he could. Ironically his declining health had made his concerts more popular rather than less. He was the shooting star of the musical world. Everyone knew his fate was to blaze bright and then go out, so there was a very limited time to hear him play.

When his joints finally succumbed to the damage his own immune system was doing to them, he’d dedicated himself to composing, turning out symphony after symphony rather prodigiously, all with a postscript note of 'For Florence'.

It had taken a long time for someone to pry who Florence was from him. Of course he hadn't been able to tell the whole truth - who would believe the whole truth? - and told a simpler version. Florence was someone he had met and fallen in love with. It had been intense and all-consuming, an instant 'love at first sight' love story fit for any wistful fan, turned quickly tragic at her sudden death. How he had played every song thereafter, hoping that wherever she was now, she would hear it. It had been become an epic love story and his music's popularity had soared.

He was technically at the height of his fame right now, everyone knew his name, his music was played in every concert hall in the world… and his body was on the point of collapse. His hair was now entirely white, his skin equally vitiligo pale, his eyes were blue now, the brown pigment destroyed by his own immune system. For all that he was barely 30 and looked no older than 16, his body's systems were failing, one after another. There was only so much modern medicines could do.

He settled back into his pillows with a sigh. He was not supposed to get up on his own, but he was unwilling to wait even a moment to write down his last inspiration, and now that it was done, his penultimate work completed, it was like the last of his strength was leaving his body; that he had only been holding on for this one last thing, and with its completion the last of his fight had ended.

Truely, Michael didn't fear death. He was not suicidal, but the hope of possibly finally seeing Florence again in whatever was after life was too desperate to be fearful of.

He brushed a finger over a leaf of the single plant dominating his bedside table. Florence's begonia. He had already left burial instructions on what he wanted. He'd built a lavish greenhouse, and as long as his music was sold in any format a portion of the proceeds went to the upkeep of the greenhouse. He wanted to be cremated and his ashes buried under this very plant and placed in the greenhouse.

An opera house had jumped on the idea and claimed the greenhouse as being a pilgrimage point for musicians and composers seeking inspiration. There was even already a monument set up, ready for his burial.

Michael didn't mind the drama. All he cared about was Florence.

More than one person had told him that new love would come, and plenty of girls had been interested in him, no matter how ill he had grown, but his heart only yearned for _her_. They'd had only one day together, one night, a few kisses, but his heart knew who it wanted.

Micheal's eyes slipped shut and his heart yearned for her again. Sleep followed nearly instantly, with his eternal rest following soon after.

His nurse would find him a few hours later, a small smile frozen on his lips looking pain-free and peaceful for the very first time she had known him. The world mourned the passing of the greatest musical genius since the likes of Beethoven and Mozart. His wishes were followed to the letter and in years - centuries - to come, his greenhouse was kept in perfect repair and people always remarked on how peaceful it was with the plants and how the central begonia never seemed to die.

Michael knew none of this. He fell slowly through colors and lights and sounds until he heard once more the tinkling songs of fairy voices as they danced. He looked around in amazement at Flowerland.

"Michael!" a voice called, a voice his heart had ached for for 15 years. There she was, pale golden white hair and ombre pastel pink dress, flying towards him, hands outstretched. He caught her hands in his and pulled her into his arms, savoring the long longed for contact. "Michael what are you doing here?"

"I'm… pretty sure I died."

"Oh, no! Michael!" she clung to him, "You're still so young!"

"It's alright. I've been sick for awhile, my life there was over. This is a relief - I can hold you again!" He hugged her. "How are we here?"

She joined their hands and lead him through the air over the flower fields. "Your music brought me back. So many people knowing my name made me become alive to them so I came back to life here! And you… remember we anointed each other in the Crystal Waters? You became a Flower Fairy then, even if you were forced back to the human world after. Your heart and soul stayed a Flower Fairy no matter what body you were in."

"Everyone said I'd move on from you but I couldn't even bear the thought. I never wanted anyone else," he assured her as they came to rest on a flower.

"Flower Fairies love different from humans, it was why I was so surprised you loved like a Fairy even before we went to the Crystal Waters. We know who we're meant to be with very quickly and our hearts never change after. I loved you from the minute I met you - even though with you being human I shouldn't have!"

"I'm glad I loved like a Fairy even before I was a Fairy. I can't even imagine wanting anyone else," he assured her. "Do Fairies have marriage? I want you to be my wife. I don't want to wait even another minute."

"That's what the Crystal Waters are generally used for, binding two together as one."

"Then can we go again? I want to be with you always!"

"Yes, let's go!" she smiled. "We can renew our life-bond together and this time we can't be separated! This is your home now!"

Michael smiled and let her guide him towards the Crystal Waters, his heart at peace and finally back where he yearned to be.


End file.
